Tag Archive: liminal space


Slowed. Stopped. Redirected… when will we be delivered? Deliver to us. Deliver us from.  #deliver #tuku

What parts of you feel like they’re dying? Yes. It’s hard, I  know. It is for me too. Now, what parts of you are coming alive? #release #wewete

Lent word: Ripe

Figs! Out of my reach though… what are you waiting for to ripen and come within reach? #ripe #pakare

Icon at Dwell, Ascot Vale

Narrative Theology #1: lyrics

Today’s word is Teacher, Kaiwhakaako, the title given to Jesus in the gospels. I think I spend more time unlearning than learning these days this great poem by Padraig O Tuama speaks to this, you can hear him read some of it here.

And I said to him
Are there answers to all of this?
And he said
The answer is in a story
and the story is being told.

And I said
But there is so much pain
And she answered plainly
Pain will happen.

Then I said
Will I ever find meaning?
And they said
You will find meaning
Where you give meaning.

The answer is in story
And the story isn’t finished.

The question is not where but now
there question’s never finished
or exhausted
and the answers in the asking
not the answer
the answer’s in the breathing of the question
in the love of holding onto
what was never whispered never seen
but what we dreamed of in the morning
then forgot while venus hid

the answer’s in the living not the knowing
the answer’s in the telling of the story
in half forgotten memory
and all unfinished stories

the answer’s in the showing time of senses
the answer’s in the question
in the learning
in the fading page of writing
in the letter sent to lovers
in the paying for the other
the answer is the generous

is the truthing

the absolutely truthful anger

and forgiving is the giving of what you don’t deserve
it’s what I’ll serve because you’re hungry
even though you may not know it

the answer’s in the living and the dying
in the trying for redemption on an empty hill of crosses
it’s the shoring up of hope and the gathering of losses
it’s the looking for companions in the hills and in the glens
it’s the waking up and walking up and starting up again
the answer’s in the living
and the trying.

And I said to the wise man,
what is the answer to all this
And he said the answer’s in the story
and the story’s just unfolding. 

credits

from hymns to swear by, released March 17, 2010all rights reserved

A modified version of this poem can be found in ‘Readings from the Book of Exile’ (Canterbury Press, 2013)

you put yourself out there

footscray graffiti orange black white house with a couch and cat on the porch

You put yourself out there.
You put yourself out.
You put your Self out.
Here I am.

Sacred ground

011

Sacred ground
trembles beneath
our feet
“Where do I stand?
Can I hold this?”
Do not hide but ride
for me and the earth are one.
After dark storms churning,
world is turning and
new day’s burning.
A star rises in the East.

 

Talitha Fraser

Get out. Get it out.

Newell's Paddock wetlands reserve footscray Melbourne stormy sky

 

Get out. Get it out. Toxic darkness enveloping/tendrils tying me down/tie me down/tie me up/what choice do I have?/I choose you. I chose you/look how well that turned out/turn up/turn it up so I don’t have to hear my own thoughts/Loving isn’t enough. Why does it keep coming back to that?/ I have to follow the road that’s in front of me to walk/Choice. Choose. Chosen/ Chosen? Who says? How can you ever know?/Is it happening to us or do we make it happen?/Hallowed and hollow. Hallowed and hollow/Gravid and grave/Beginning and end bound together in the same ritual, the same act/What will you choose?/I’m sorry. I’m already on my knees… I don’t know which way to fall now the fall feels inevitable/ The King quote says ‘you only need a heart full of grace. A soul generated by love’ but I gave all of mine away.

 

Dec 378

port phillip bay still water blue water blue sky still

Sometimes the path that you’re supposed to walk is the one in front of you. There are no trap doors or detours… just take the next step in front of you.

You have all these chats and conversations and visits and meetings that may or may not ever amount to anything. These are the meetings that have amounted to something.  I am myself one of the moving parts. Maybe it’s me that needs to yield.  Me that needs to resolve for some of the other moving parts to be able to be still. Be still.

Be still.

 

Love and be loved.
Love and Beloved.

 

tree winter treasury gardens melbourne life dealer death dealer poem Talitha Fraser

Are you a life dealer or a death dealer?
Opening or closing?
Possibility or doom?
I can’t fix you.
I can’t fix myself.
I ask for help and help comes.
Ask and it shall be given unto you.

Stay back
death dealer.
You will know
your end in me.
Because I am
all that’s new,
all that’s possible,
all that you dream is possible to do
– if only you knew…
If only you believed.
Come here.

Talitha Fraser